The Freedom of Barbara Polk
by Wesley Foreman
Summary: Uncle Simon thought he had won. He though he had found a way to continue tormenting Barbara from beyond the grave. He was wrong.


I know some will, or at least would like to, call me a murderess, but the truth is; I did NOT kill my Uncle Simon. At least not by any action on my part beyond the fact that I was simply defending myself when he raised that cane of his to physically attack me. If my uncle hadn't tried to attack me, I wouldn't have had to defend myself, and if I hadn't had to defend myself, he would never have fallen down those steps.

Yes, I could have called for help. I could have called for an ambulance to take Uncle Simon to the hospital. I could have done that and saved his life. But the cold truth is; I didn't want to. After all those years of abuse, why should I have done even that little to save the life of a man who took sadistic delight in tormenting me every waking moment? Would he have been grateful? Would he have begun to be kinder to me? Would he have had one iota of sympathy for me or ANYONE not himself? No. Nothing would have changed. He would have continued to abuse me mentally, verbally, and eventually (as his attempt to hit me with his cane showed) physically for the rest of his life, and if that ABOMINATION he created in his laboratory proved to me, he would have done WHATEVER was necessary to continue that abuse long after he finally did succumb to death.

Uncle Simon thought he got the last word with that creation of his. He was wrong. He may have thought me a "peanut-headed sample of nature's carelessness", but I am a lot more intelligent than he ever gave me credit for.

I was listening to the radio I keep in my bedroom (one of the very few personal activities that "Uncle" Simon lets me enjoy) one afternoon, bored and dreading the call from that Thing in my late uncle's study, turning the station dial looking for something interesting to listen to, when I stumbled upon the answer to my prayers. A way out from under the thumb my uncle tried to keep me under from beyond the grave.

As I was turning the dial, I came upon a news story about France testing a nuclear bomb on some atoll called "Moruroa" in the South Pacific. I don't know why I stopped turning the dial at that point, but I am SO glad that I did.

The reporting was describing in great detail all of the effects, both anticipated and unlooked for, that resulted from the detonation. Of particular interest to me was how the explosion had had a greater than expected electromagnetic pulse. A small, unmanned, observation test ship had had all of its electronics completely destroyed and would have to be towed back to the nearest port, and while the ship itself was salvageable, the electronic equipment, valued at, according to the announcer, at over $250,000, was now only just so much useless junk and would never work again.

That's when the idea came to me. That's when I knew I had found a way to escape not only "Uncle" Simon, but Uncle Simon as well.

I had to be clever though, because I could only leave the house with the permission of that mechanical abomination that lorded it over me.

"BAR-BAR-UH!" I heard it call. "You empty headed abortion of intelligent life! Get down here at once! You've been listening to that electric squawk box long enough! I want some hot chocolate! And then, I want you to dust my library! You might enjoy living in all this filth, but I do not! Make me my hot chocolate and serve it in the bone china cup! And make sure it's hot, or I'll throw it on the floor! And then dust my library now!"

Oh, I was going to enjoy getting rid of my uncle's last invention.

So, after I brought my "uncle" his hot, hot chocolate and dusted his library, I made my move.

"Uncle, may I please leave the house to go to the library today. I would like to get something new to read, and I don't want to risk damaging any of the books in your library. They're far too valuable and I wouldn't understand even half of what's in them, I'm so stupid." I said as I began my bid for freedom.

"Well, Bar-bar-uh," it replied. "You may have the intelligence of a bovine crab, but I suppose even you can get lucky and have a cogent thought every once in a while. Yes, I would never risk you actually reading my books because I doubt you would even understand a quarter of what's in them, let alone half, and beyond dusting them, I really don't like the thought of you even touching them. Yes. You may go to the library and check out a book or two if you like. May I suggest you get something simple like 'A Pre-Schooler's Guide to the Alphabet'? It will be simple enough for you to read, and if you cannot, will be certain to have some pretty pictures for you to look at."

"Yes, uncle" I replied. "I was actually thinking of getting some kind of romantic fiction, but I will definitely consider your suggestion". At the mere mention of romantic fiction, the robot made the kind of 'that's disgusting' noise my uncle used to make at the very thought of my having notions of love and romance. "I also would like to stop at the supermarket on my way back. I noticed we're a little low on a few things, and especially your favorite hot chocolate mix. I would hate to not have it available the next time you want some."

"Yes. Go." It said. "I expect you back in no more than three hours. That is assuming, of course, that you have enough active brain cells to tell time".

So, to the library I went. The librarian was very helpful. I mentioned the news story I had heard on the radio, and what the electromagnetic pulse had done to the electronics on the French ship, and I wanted to know if she could help me find any books on the topic. I was so grateful when she showed me to the science section and the collection of books about nuclear weapons. Scanning through about a dozen or so books, I finally found the answer to my prayers, a technical manual about electromagnetic pulse generators. Taking it off the shelf, I then went to the romance section for what I had told that abomination I was planning on getting, and then to the children's section for the alphabet book it suggested I get.

Stopping at the supermarket on my way home, I made sure to get that creature some more of its hot chocolate. I didn't know how long it would take to implement my plan and I had to keep it pacified as much as possible until then.

Days passed as I read the manual. I took notes, I made calculations, and I read and re-read the copy of the will my uncle's lawyer, Mr. Schwimmer, had left me after the Reading. A will that specifically states I had to care for that creature my uncle invented for as long as it lasted. But I am not a scientist. If it malfunctions or breaks down and stops working, there is no proviso in the will which states anything regarding that issue.

So, my plan began to take shape. Each time that abomination agreed to let me go out to the store for whatever I needed for the house (food, cleaning supplies, etc.), I would make a little side trip to an electronics supply store called RadioShack. Little by little, week by week, I bought the parts I would need. Some copper wire, some iron nails, some batteries, a capacitor, an electrical 'on/off' switch. I never bought the items all at once and never all together. I wanted the device to be small, and the parts to be easily explainable as things I needed for home repairs, because after all the torment I endured, I was ENTITELD to my inheritance.

Piece by piece my little EMP generator was built, until the day came to finally use it. I just had to wait for the right time, which came nearly 6 months after my uncle had died from his fall down the stairs and that will had been read.

The creature called to me, no doubt because it wanted more hot chocolate. At this moment, I was so glad that it was such a common request of his, because it had called for it, and consumed some once during one of Mr. Schwimmer's weekly inspections. That way, there would be no questions as to why I was giving hot chocolate to a machine.

Going to the kitchen, with that thing screaming the entire time, I set the kettle of water on the stove to boil, I went quickly back up to my room where I had been working on my EMP device, and brought it back down with me to MY library.

"Bar-bar-uh" the thing screeched at me. "Where's my hot chocolate. I want my hot chocolate, you old boot! What is that thing you have in your hands!" it said, spotting my device.

"It's my freedom, you mechanical abomination!" Walking up to it as closely as I dared, I threw the switch from 'off' to 'on'. The effect was instantaneous. The robot sparked, it smoked, and it spun around and made strange buzzing sounds. Then, its lights stopped blinking. The clicking noises it used to make stopped clicking. It made one final shudder and fell to the floor.

I took the generator back up to my room and took it apart as quickly as I could, dispersing the various components all around the house. I then went back down to the kitchen where the kettle had just began to whistle.

After taking the kettle off the stove, I went to the phone to call my uncle's (my) lawyer. He picked up the phone immediately.

"Yes. Hello." Mr. Schiwmmer said.

"Mr. Schwimmer, its Barbara Polk." I tried to sound grief stricken, which was not an easy task as I felt not only relieved, but elated. I just tried to keep reminding myself of all the hell my uncle and his last attempt to destroy me put me through. That made it easier, though by no means a picnic.

"Could you please come over right away" I continued. "Something has gone wrong with my uncle's robot."

"I'll be over as soon as I can Ms. Polk. I'll bring one of your late uncle's colleagues with me to help us determine what might be wrong."

"Thank you", I sad, and then hung up. My heart began to race now. I hadn't thought about any of my late uncle's colleagues. My only prayer now was that whomever Mr. Schwimmer brought over wouldn't be able to tell what had happened.

The waiting was nerve wracking. When Mr. Schwimmer arrived an hour after I called him, he was accompanied by a Mr. Wallingford, a physics professor from the university. We gathered around the 'body' of the robot, Professor Wallingford getting down on his knees in order to open up the access panel on the thing.

Taking out some tools and electronic measuring devices, poking and prodding, Professor Wallingford looked up, and with a grim look on his face, pronounced the creature 'dead'.

"Oh my," said Mr. Schwimmer. "Can you determine what happened? Ms. Polk what did it do before you called me?"

Telling him the story I had come up with weeks ago, I told the two men how the robot had called for some hot chocolate, and how I had gone to the kitchen to start the water boiling so I could make it, when I heard a strange noise coming from here in the library. Rushing back, I said, I saw it start to spark and smoke and make strange noises. "I just stood there in shock. I was frozen with fear, not knowing what to do, when it fell over and lay still. I called you at once Mr. Schwimmer. Is there anything I can do, Professor Wallingford?" I asked as I turned to the man still kneeling on the floor.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Polk" he replied. "As near as I can determine, the robot suffered a blown circuit, power surge, and a fused transistor. In a human being, it would be like having a stroke, a heart attack and an aneurysm all at the same time. It was probably all the hot chocolate the robot consumed. I really don't know what your uncle was thinking by building a machine that asked for liquids like this" he finished saying.

"What am I going to do now?" I started to cry. Fake tears I know, but they were effective nonetheless. Both men stood up and began to offer what 'comfort' they could.

"Well, Ms. Polk" Mr. Schwimmer began. "Your uncle's will stipulated that you care for this robot, his last invention, for as long as it lasted. You can hardly be faulted if it suffered such a catastrophic malfunction. No. As I see it, you will have to temporarily lose the assets of your trust fund, but you can stay in the house till we can settle everything. You will need to contest that last stipulation, but the law firm will help you with that and most likely the judge will consider the terms of your uncle's last will and testament fulfilled. The judge might even dissolve the trust and give you full access to your inheritance, especially with Professor Wallingford's testimony as to the probable cause of the malfunction."

"Oh, most certainly" said the professor. "I really thought better of your uncle, Ms. Polk. I don't know what he could have been thinking, building a robot that 'drank' ANY kind of liquid, especially hot chocolate."

"Thank you, gentlemen" I replied. "Mr. Schiwmmer, I fully intend to put all my legal affairs into your capable hands. You were not only his lawyer, you were his friend, and, I hope, mine now as well."

Mr. Schwimmer nodded in acknowledgment, and after a few more minutes of discussing my next steps, my lawyer and Professor Wallingford departed. I asked about what to do with the robot's 'body', and they told me they would make arrangements on my behalf to have a scrap metal dealer come to pick up the thing, because, really, that's all it was now.

After they left, I stood there. Looking down at my uncle's last, vain, attempt to abuse me from beyond the grave, I started to quietly laugh.

"Can you hear me, Uncle Simon? Do you know I'm with you? Do you know that you failed? I'm free! Finally, I'm free of you at last!"

I then began to laugh uncontrollably. Joy was coursing throughout my entire body. I was elated! I was euphoric!

Then, slowly, I walked. Room by room, I pulled open all the curtains and opened all the windows. It was a bright, warm, early summer day. The scent of roses and honeysuckle were on the air.

I was FREE!


End file.
